Guess you’d never thought you’d get a letter from me after all this time, hey, specially after that big fight we had. You should be so lucky, pal! (N.B. Note the above address. I’m just about the oldest inhabitant—four whole months, strewth, someone oughta give me a medal!)

So, how are things going with you? You learned to swim yet, you lazy nerd? I’m as well as can be expected (as the saying goes). I was going to nick off that many times when I first got here, you wouldn’t have believed it. (Or maybe you would.) Once I hiked all the way to the nearest station (like travelling over the Sahara Desert, no kidding). Just my terrific luck when I got there—next train wasn’t due for another two hours! Nothing to look at except gum trees and I was feeling a bit wobbly and peculiar after that long walk. (Or maybe it was the baby giving me a good kick, who knows. It’s obviously going to be a bit of a nagger, like you.) Anyhow, the thought of looking at gum trees for two hours didn’t seem all that fantastic, so I turned round and came back here.

I’m staying on for a couple of months after the baby’s born (got to make sure I’m really and truly recovered from flu and bronchitis and pleurisy and that!). Then we’ll both be going to live with Mum and Dad for a bit. Back home.

I’m getting along fine, Seymour. (Honestly.) I think maybe I’m going to make it this time around. Just thought I’d tell you. When things get a bit tough I go for walks—only not in the direction of the railway station. The lake’s full of little silver fishes. (THEY can swim, you dill, so why can’t YOU?) They’re so pretty to watch I sit there for hours on end. It’s peaceful.

I didn’t get around to thanking you for bringing Juliet for me that day, did I? Well, thanks. She got a bit battered the first few weeks here. I used to get so depressed I’d scrunch her up in a ball and practically chew bits out of her. But that part’s all over now. I made her a new dress and new plaits of wool and washed and ironed and starched her. She just sits on my dressing table now, looks like a new woman!

The baby’s going to be fine, too, the doctor said. They did this ultrasound—that’s kind of like a moving x-ray picture—and I saw its little feet and it moved a hand and sort of waved to me. God, it’s so tiny, though you won’t think so from the photo I’m putting in with this letter. I look like I’m going to have triplets!